Choices
by yseult
Summary: When too much becomes too hard to bear, Steve McGarrett will lose himself in order to protect the people he cares about. (Spoiler Alerts for various episodes of Season 2.)
1. Chapter 1

**Info**: I had the idea for this story when reading Montez' amazing piece "Lost". Montez himself has pointed out, that the premise is out of character for Steve and I thought about what wouldn't be. This is a shot at it. Takes place after 2x13 (uses some parts from 2x14, so beware some spoilers). From there on AU. No OCs. All team characters will be featured at one point or another.

I own nothing apart from the plot development played out in these chapters. Initial idea is Montez' and the original characters are all CBS's.

Thanks for reading. Leave me a review or a comment. You'll make my day.

* * *

The sound of the closing car door remained with him and seemed to bounce around in his mind for a moment before burning itself into his memory forever. There was a final note to that sound. Like a paradoxical promise of a last, unspoken goodbye.

And then Joe White was gone.

Steve McGarrett's mind went blank at around the same time. Or rather it started focusing on a simple word: Why?

He felt betrayed, hurt and uncommon for him he had trouble making sense of either his emotions or of the implications.

_"Let's go, Joe!" The former Seal Team Commander stood up shakily from his seat and took two hesitant steps towards Steve before straightening up and supported by the wall, passed Steve who had his eyes and gun still trailed on Adam Noshimuri to protect his former instructor's retreat._

_During the car drive back to his house, the air inside Steve's truck was thick with unvoiced tension and aggression. His face was set, teeth clenched and his jaw was about ready to jump out of its bone sockets. It didn't need a mind reader or an empath to interpret Steves anger radiating from every barely disguised sigh and frustrated exhale. Joe coughed lightly, almost against his will, but Adam Noshimuri's men had beaten him pretty badly and he felt almost every single one of his almost 60 years. He refused to acknowledge either the pain, nor a fuming Steve beside him, his gaze stubbornly turned on the road ahead._

_So he deflected. _

_"__You realise you just started a war with the Yakuza." - "No, Joe you did that when you grabbed Hiro Noshimuri!" Steve turned to look at the older man as if to emphasise the extent of Joe's actions. _

_But Joe didn't see the sudden worry that flashed across Steve's features, his eyes closed in frustration. "They think you killed him." Again, Steve checked the rear mirror and the dark street behind them as if to expect a Yakuza hit squad to follow them. _

_"__Well, I didn't kill him." Now it was Joe's turn to check the rear mirror, obviously sharing the younger man's worry. "I helped him fake his death." Every word was sharp and clear cut. Joe's way of pronouncing truth and reality had a way of irking Steve that made it hard to contain his reaction. _

_"__WHAT…?!"_

_The single word held so much more than just a question. It held weeks and months of frustration and doubt. Misgivings and eventually that large part of mistrust that had formed somewhere deep inside him. Mistrust at the only person he considered as a father, having lost access to his own so early in his life. That and more flashed up in his expression when he turned his blue eyes to his right to look at Joe White, Lt. Commander, former CO and trusted friend who still refused to look him in the eye. _

_His only reply was silence, Joe had closed his eyes now. The blood that had run from his brow down to his cheek was starting to dry and his throbbing head didn't help the situation one bit. _

_Throwing his free hand in the air to emphasise the next question, he spat: "WHY…?!"_

_"__I can't tell you that." Still refusing to look at Steve directly. _

_The car came to a forced halt as Steve hit the breaks hard and the tires protested with a screeching sound against the tarmac. He forced himself to take a deep breath, but it wouldn't bring down his anger. Not one bit. A second breath had just as little effect. He was surprised that his voice was a low and even as he spoke the next words. _

_"__I was tortured over Shelburne."_

_Another breath. Torture. _

_He had said it out loud. For the first time since they had brought him home. The words fell like dead weight between him and Joe. _

_"_**_Tortured…!_**_"_

_Anything even was now gone from his voice and the saying it again only made it more real. His eyes were turned on Joe now who found no better reaction than to nod while persisting to look straight ahead. _

_"__Joe! Jenna Kay paid with her life!"_

_Still no reaction. Steve had a mind to either throw a punch at his former CO or shake him out of his apparent stupor. _

_"__I deserve answers! I want answers! And I want them right now."_

_Joe stretched painfully in his seat, before replying with the smallest indication of annoyance in his voice. It wasn't much, but for the stoic that was Joe White, it was a bushfire about to explode into a ball of fire._

_"__You know son,… there was a time when I'd had you up on charges of insubordination for that."_

_Steve wasn't having any of it. He resented the fact that after all this time the older man tried to manipulate him through their common service in the Navy. He felt cheated, lied to and he had had enough. At last. _

_"__You know … we're not in the service anymore, Joe. And you're not my commanding officer." The words seemed final. _

_"__You're right." There was an audible 'klick' from a seatbelt opening and for the first time Joe looked at Steve. They locked eyes for a moment until a second 'klick' signalled the opening of the passenger door. _

_"__I'm not."_

_Another set of final words. And without another look Joe got out, closed the door and walked unsteadily into the night leaving Steve to his anger. _

He had know right from the start that Joe wasn't telling him the whole story. No matter how close you got to people, it would never keep you from being lied to. Steve had a feeling that he held back what he thought Steve couldn't handle or what he thought would serve whoever and whatever he protected.

But how deep the rabbit hole went…? Steve had no way of knowing. Helping Hiro Noshimuri, the head of head of the local Yakuza fake his own death? It was unthinkable.

His whole life, Joe's whole life… hell, all of the US military, and all federal intelligence services combined were there to bring people like Hiro Noshimuri to justice. The only reason he would get a free card was if there was something to be gained from him. What did he know that was so precious that warranted his protection through a death plot? And why Joe? He wasn't CIA, NSA or Homeland Security, what could he possibly gain from any of this? What was his play? Who was he protecting? There was no doubt in Steve's mind that Joe would have let Adam Noshimuri avenge his father, had he himself not gotten there in time.

He was reeling. He had been betrayed so many times and had lived to tell the tale. By fate. By friends. By circumstance. By family. By emotion. And by his own will. And now he had the confirmation that he had been betrayed by Joe White as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your reviews and your messages. How very kind of you.

Since the first chapter was mostly a retelling of a scene from the episode, I thought I'd post the next chapter of my own doing today. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts in the reviews.

* * *

Steve knew that he should have called someone. Danny, Chin, Kono… anyone. He most certainly should not have driven home alone to sit in the darkness mulling things around in his head that he couldn't make sense of.

He'd expected the crash after the adrenaline rush that accompanied his personal brand of 'combat mode'. A state somewhere between overstretched attention and blinking out rational consideration completely that you'd only every reach through years of drills and honing of instincts.

After the rush, the brain took over again and subconscious and consciousness startet a sordid ballet between themselves working through painful experiences. It's how the mind worked.

And yet, to Steve this self-healing power of the mind was worse than torture.

Introspection was a dangerous thing. It could warp your mind and plant doubts about future and past actions where it could only harm. Too much dwelling on the past could kill you. And not enough would eventually kill you as well. Only slower.

Steve wasn't a man of sombre disposition. To the contrary, he had learnt to deal with dangerous thoughts. He thought he'd master the balance between shutting out the pain and dealing with it on an almost clinical level. Without emotion. Without panic. Without tears.

Tonight however, he couldn't help it. This whole last year had been one single challenge to what he knew and what he thought was assured reality.

His whole adult life, someone else provided him with a goal, a mission, an objective. Someone else gave him the means to attain that objective. His job was to be there in the best form possible.

Living like this had been simple and the odd contradiction of civilians thinking he had the hardest life of all, was not lost on either Steve or any member of an elite group anywhere in the world.

A life like this was easy. A life like this was measurable.

A life like this was controlled. The impact of a single action could be accounted for. And other people only mattered insofar as they could offer intel, further or hinder the outcome of a mission. That was it.

And then things changed.

Steve had left Freddie behind to die alone in some ditch in North Korea. Because bringing him back, staying with him, would have meant losing the mission. Losing the objective. Letting Anton Hesse go.

But of course, keeping Anton Hesse ultimately led Steve to lose his father. Implications, complications. Choices. Choices nobody had prepared him for. Choices that were harder and harder to make. Harder and harder to balance. Outcomes that were becoming impossible to accept.

Once more, he wondered about his impact in the lives of the people around him ever since he had chosen to stay in Hawaii. What had started as a dare against a cocky Jersey detective in his family home and was followed by a completely close-minded hunt for his father's killer had led to so much more than that. He had linked it to some similarity of peace. Homecoming. Balance. Some sort of solace after years of refusing any kind of true attachment.

But it hadn't lasted.

Danny had been right from the start. Finding Victor Hesse had been his personal vendetta. And it had put so many people in danger. Danny had been shot of risks he had taken. Chin had been tied to a live bomb because of a fight he couldn't walk away from. Just as his father had warned him. He had made the same mistakes. No lessons had been learnt. No life spared. All futures put at risk.

Because of him.

And again some invisible, impossible weight lowered itself onto his sternum. And with the weight came a thought back to the one person behind it all.

Wo Fat.

His life was linked to this man, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it or will it away. Through decisions that were not his, and beyond his own doing. And yet, the people around him were most at risk now.

Dany, Chin, Kono. Malia. Jenna. Cath.

The better part of his life he had lived like he had no attachment at all. A lone wolf sent into the world to fight battles no family man or mother would be sent to fight. And now that he had in fact no family attachments anymore, he had tied himself to other people and thus linking them inextricably to his own fate. A fate that seemed wrought with danger and death.

And again the faces of all the people he couldn't save lined up in the darkness to haunt him. His mother's face that he could barely remember, his father's stern smile, his best friend's Freddie Hart's last look as he gave his life for him, victims, killers alike… the last in line Owen Sutherland.

Between the secrets and the lies, the dysfunctional family that never was, the ties that wished for somewhere deeply inside him, the realisation that no matter how hard he pushed himself there were people that he couldn't save, started to hit him harder every day.

As a professional, as a sailor, a SEAL, even an intelligence officer, he had been and was a surgical instrument. His implication in a problem, in the lives of people was limited. Clearly cordoned off, like a crime scene. This was the problem. This was the solution. Here was his assignment. There was the platoon that would help him accomplish it. In. Out. Done.

Life here on the island… was not like that. It was messy. All these emotions, all these lives. Girls being drugged, daughters being traded, used, discarded. Boys being dismissed, robbed of a father, robbed of a life. Sons killing their mothers, fathers. All these parents losing their children. In little over a year he'd met his share of messed up lives. Destroyed by circumstance or pure criminal evil. Whatever the difference, the outcome was the same.

And while Steve knew that none of it was his burden to bear, he still felt it.

The weight on his chest had become unbearable and he laboured for one single breath. His fingernails dug into his palms.

And finally, the man that feared nothing and knew no limits, panicked sitting alone in his dark house in the early hours of the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Thank you everyone for all your reviews, alerts and favouriting. I am very thankful for your time and hope this little continuation pleases you, please leave a review if that's the case.  
There isn't much plot so far, I know, but there will be some… eh… powerful plotlines in the very near future. I just need to get them all there ;-) Have a blessed weekend.**

* * *

When Steve woke to the first rays of the sun raising over the horizon, he found himself on the floor of his living room without any memory how he had ended up there. He felt sore from lying on the floor and emotionally numb. It made for an odd combination.

A quick Navy-shower and a single cup of coffee later, he decided against his usual morning swim. And true to form, the voice at the back of his head alerted him.

_First it's slacking on your routine, then it's losing reflexes. You are getting soft._

In his head the voice was Joe's. His instructor. One of the people instrumental in shaping him the way he was today. It could have been any of his old teacher's. From the Navy Academy to Basic training, to BUD to any of the SEAL team teaching units or any of the vessels on which he had served. For some reason the safeguard of his military background had Joe's voice.

He shook his head, refusing to follow the thought through and instead squared his shoulders defiantly. He needed to get his head straight before Danny got there. They had no hot cases at the moment, so they spent their time strategising about more general points of organised crime in the state, such as trafficking routes, recruitment strategies of personal informants… and material deployment. Or worse how to organise courses and continued education such as IT courses, crime scene treatment or drill protocols. It was uninteresting work, but it was important. And it meant that Danny's attention could easily be sidetracked by anything off. And really, Steve wasn't up for New Jersey detective scrutiny. Not until he had gotten some hold on his inner balance again.

For this Monday morning, Danny and Steve were scheduled for a joint organisation meeting with about Honolulu Police Departement liaison procedures. And in the evening, the Governor had all recruited them to come to one of his many charities where he wanted to show off his state taskforce.

Steve had barely time to put on his best no-worry face on before downing the last of his black coffee only a second before Danny - true to form - walked into his kitchen without ever as much as bothering about the front door or knocking.

"Good morning." the blond detective flashed with a smile vaguely registering some upset in his commander's eyes that was gone as soon as it had appeared.

"What's wrong? Missed killing a shark during your morning swim?" Danny could barely contain his good mood. It had spent the weekend with his daughter Grace and like his personal sun, the little girl left him in good spirits. She rarely failed to put him in a good place where he could almost believe life wasn't a pure line up of dangerous, life-threatening or heart breaking episodes.

As usual his remark didn't miss its intended effect and Steve's features broke into a wide smile that could fool them all.

"There are no sharks on this side of the island, Danny." - "No? Well, I am sure you'd manage to attracted them. Sailor and all."

One inquisitive look and a raised eyebrow later: "Oh, so I'm in the Navy now. Only took you so long as to get that through your hard skull." The smile lessened slightly as Steve turned around to drop his coffee cup into the sink. Ever so neat and tidy.

"What's up with your mood today…? It's almost… bearable. Clown."

"Nothing. Nothing." Then after a beat. "Clown? Seriously. That's all you could come up with? Well, excuse me, sourly-stern military type was already taken."

Launching himself into the meaningless banter like a lifeline Steve opened the back door and the two partners walked outside to the car.

"I could ask you what's up with the zombie eyes, but I am not giving you a chance to give me any of your Navy SEAL crap answers…"

"Exactly. You don't want to know. It's classified." Steve replied with a huge smile and a laugh that just didn't reach his eyes.

"Classified? Are you hiding some kind of hidden identity or something…?" With a precise motion he flipped his keys at Steve that caught them in the air out of pure habit while burying his hands in his pockets.

"Maybe." And before Danny could come up with a proper reply, the driver's side door of his Camaro had already been shut as a final point and with a grimace he opened the passenger side.

"You mean the hidden identity that makes you Batman and me Robin, because you keep insisting on driving **my** car?"

* * *

Both men had fallen silent, Danny clearly mulling over something in his head. There really wasn't anything Danny could hide for long. Anything going on in his mind would sooner rather than later find a way to the outside.

"You know, you were supposed to call me last night. And you were… incommunicado. What was up?" Danny tried to sound as noncommittal as possible. He could tell that something was up with his partner. Something beyond the usual load of general existential crap that was going on in his life. Something that went deeper. If Steve's ever deeper lines and undereye circles were any indication deep enough to rob him of sleep and rest.

"Joe was kidnapped by Adam Noshimuri." The reply came as a simple statement. A matter of fact. Nothing else.

Danny's chin dropped several inches and for a second there was no reaction. One second. The next, he gasped: "Wait… WHAT?. Backup there. Joe was kidnapped by the Yakuza? And you failed to tell me this until now, why? Wait. Don't answer that." Throwing his hands flat in the air: "What the hell happened…?!"

"They took him. They think he killed Hiro Noshimuri. Adam thinks so at least. I got him out. Yakuza or not, their guard circles are crap." Steve's voice betrayed his detachment from the situation and did just enough to irk Danny so he wouldn't pick up on his true feelings on the matter.

The detective huffed a snort and replied: "I am sure they are, General McGarrett. Anything else?" He turned a stern look to his left, fixing Steve who remained unmoved by the exchange. "WHAT is wrong with you…? How could you be so reckless…?! WHY didn't you call us…? Me…? Chin…? Kono…? Lori…? ANYBODY…!? You are telling me you went to Adam Noshimuri's house, dropped all his goons and got Joe out without as much as a scratch? Are you INSANE….? No, really. Have you lost the little mind you still had…?! What do you think will happen now…?!"

Danny shock his head, an angry streak working its way onto his face.

"Honestly, I don't know." Again, Steve's reply was matter-of-factly. He truly had no idea what would happen now. But he doubted that Adam would drop the matter. And given Joe White's blank refusal to do tell him the truth about helping Hiro fake his death, there was no easy fix for this situation.

"Oh, you don't know…? How about I tell you what happens? Please let me. Adam will kill him. And we will be in the middle of an open war with the local Yakuza and all their allies. How could you be so reckless…?!"

"How could _I_ be so reckless…?! I didn't do anything! I helped a friend." Steve exhaled before stating, again completely matter-of-factly: "Besides, he didn't kill Hiro Noshimuri. He helped him fake his death." And again his detached tone, pressed all the right buttons with Danny.

"Back up, there. Wait. What do you mean by 'he helped Noshimuri fake his death'…?" Interestingly enough Danny's reaction was suddenly much more measured than Steve's had been a couple of hours before.

"Has he lost his mind…?!" Or not. "Have you BOTH lost your minds…?!"

"I don't know!. OK? He refuses to tell me why, he refuses to tell me anything. I know about as much as you do. So don't start with me." The change in Steve's voice and temper was as fast as a passing sun blocking out the sun. He had raised his voice more than he had intended. Danny's words about his own recklessness had hit a sore spot. His reaction was viceral. And completely unexpected. His partner closed his mouth which had dropped open at the sudden aggressiveness, thinking better than to reply directly, instead noting the fast changes in his best friends behaviour.

Danny huffed and opened his mouth again, only to close it again. This was insane. He shared Steve's asessement of the situation of an impending Yakuza war on Honolulu PD and the Five-0 task force and therefore: the whole state of Hawaii.

"He has to tell Adam Noshimuri the truth."

Now it was Steve's turn to huff at the impossibility of any kind of probability behind that statement.

The partners shared a tense, silent look before Steve turned into the parking lot beside the palace that served as their headquarters.

"You have no idea what Joe White is capable of." The door closed with a 'thump' that was slightly too loud and betrayed Steve's emotions even more.

Danny got out of the car and before closing the door forcefully himself, channeling his frustration into the gesture and shot Steve a stern look: "Is stubbornness a prerequisite to be considered for SEAL training then? Some kind of pass for your famous hell week?"

Refusing to answer the bait, Steve just turned away and walked towards the main entrance of the building.

"What...? He might not be real family, but you'd think he was, considering his ability to resist reason and his ease to classify whatever suits him."

Ouch. Still refusing to reply, Danny could tell that his words hadn't missed their mark. The squaring of shoulders and the straightening of tendons in Steve's jaw were enough indication that the spot was sore. Very sore.

They moved up the stairs in silence, Steve moving quickly enough to almost outrun his partner. Danny had half a mind to apologise for his ill-timed remark when Steve turned around, the same angry streak about him that he'd seen enough times before. In the interrogation room this posture and expression spelled trouble for any suspect unfortunate enough to find himself in front of Steve McGarrett. To Danny however, it was a warning sign. And it added itself to all the other warning signs that started to be quite the merry group in his head.

Steve opened his mouth, stopped, closed it again as if he'd thought better of it, turned around and made straight for his office, leaving Danny to throw his hands in the air in a gesture of incomprehension.

"What the hell is the matter with you…?"

Too late. Steve was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you everyone for your reviews and comments. Here we go with some more Steve-Angst and a change in scenery before I go all AU on the plot. Hope you still like what you are reading. Leave me a note, I appreciate your time and your views. Thanks!

* * *

Lori was gone.

Through no other's fault but himself… and hers. The Governor had stayed true to his promise.

Steve's head was pounding in its own rhythm and dropping back into his office chair, for the first time in a day he allowed the last 48 hours to hit home. All at once.

The gala. The discovery of a murder victim. The subsequent investigation. He had jumped off a roof, got run over by a fast driving car, sent Chin into a career suicide mission - if not more -, and had lost another member of their team. For good this time.

A deep breath brought a deep sigh that was lost in the ever growing darkness of his office and the Five-0 headquarters beyond the glass door. He was alone, in this part of the building or beyond. And he felt like it too.

It didn't matter that Lori Weston claimed responsibility for her actions, defended the Governor from being petty or that nothing but chance and breaking of any kind of protocol got them Chin back. It didn't matter one bit to Steve McGarrett, commander and leader.

Every step of the way, every decision taken, every order given… there was nothing that he thought he could have done otherwise. Nothing. There was no doubt in his mind. Not the shadow of hesitation. Not in the moment. Not in hindsight. He had done what he thought best. It was what he had been tasked to do, or not?

For the first time, he actually understood what Dany meant when he named him a 'danger magnet'. And for the first time Steve really went there and considered what it meant. Truly. For some reason, beyond his understanding, trouble sought him out and danger went with every step. In the Navy it was what he looked for. Maybe not actively, but as a member of a special forces unit, there really wasn't much guessing on which side of danger you'd like to stand. He'd always been fine with it. Because 'danger' and 'risks' in that setting were quantifiable. Put a number on it, tell everyone what to expect. In. Out. Mission done. Next.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't argue away the simple fact that here… on Hawai'i in this position… he had failed. The damages in budget, career moments, lives,… after little over a year of him leading this semblance of a state police had been… catastrophic.

That was even without Wo Fat spinning things even worse out of balance on a very,… very personal level.

Wo Fat. Another thing beyond his control. Everyone and anyone linked to him was at risk from Wo Fat now. Especially after the whole plot behind Hiro Noshimuri's death had come out the way it had.

_"__Hey…, hey…! No arguments, Joe! We tried it your way. Now we're doing it my way." _

_Steve had been tense, but in his mind it had been the only way. He noted in passing that Joe beside him was shifting uneasily as well as the dark pickup pulled onto the cliff right opposite Honolulu downtown, where the two men were waiting. Used to tense situations though, both men relaxed visibly when the two Yakuza enforcers stepped up to them, led by none other than Adam Noshimuri._

_"__I said no weapons." Noshimuri's voice was raspy. More so than usual. It betrayed his own tension. A college boy out of his league._

_"__That's what they always say, but it never really turns out that way, does it?" Steve's remark was aimed to level the field, but Adam Noshimuri wasn't game. _

_"__Do you have .. _**_any_**_ idea what kind of self control it takes not to kill you both, right now?"_

_"__Yeah. I do." Finally. This time McGarrett's words didn't miss. Adam turned his eyes for a small incredulous second on him. "When I met the man who murdered my father… trust me… the only thing I wanted to do was put a bullet right in his head."_

_"__But you didn't…?" Adam shifted his weight as if feeling uncomfortable in his skin. _

_"__No. I didn't."_

_"__Well, then you are a better man than I am." The words were barely out, as Adam reached for his gun in the back of his trousers. The gesture prompted four imitations of the same movement, albeit quicker, more paced and trained as the newly minted leader of the local Hawaiian Yakuza pointing his gun straight at Joe White. _

_"__Hey…! Listen…!" Was all that Steve could manage. "Hey! Joe didn't kill your father, Adam." _

_"__So you claim. Where is your proof?" _

_"__It's right here." It was Joe's turn to speak and take control of the situation. Pointing down to his trousers: "Easy now." _

_He holstered his gun as a show of good faith and took out his mobile phone. He drew a deep breath while starting to dial the a number only known to him._

_Without even waiting for someone to pick up, he held out the phone for Adam to grab. "It's for you."_

_Adam Noshimuri's expression was one of complete lack of understanding. Confused, he took the phone from the man and brought it up to his ear. _

_"__Hello." _

_A moment of silence passed. Then… with a soft tone: "Father…? Really? Why?" _

_"__This is the right thing to do." Steve turned to Joe, the older man clearly not convinced about their current actions. _

_"__Yeah, we'll see." The reply was curt._

_"__Sayonara." Flipping the phone back to Joe, Adam still wasn't much wiser to either what had happened, or what we was to do with this situation now._

_"__I don't understand. Why?" And obviously, he turned to Joe White for answers._

_"__Old Chinese Proverb. The enemy of my enemy… is my friend. Our mutual enemy is Wo Fat." _

_"__I don't give a damn about him."_

_"__Well, you should!" Steve shot impatiently. "You should. Because he kills anyone who crosses him or gets in his way. Your uncle Kochi. His own lieutenant Victor Hesse. You don't get it, do you?"_

_"__Adam, your father went from being a powerful ally to being a loose end. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Wo Fat went after him."_

_And Joe added: "And you. And that's why your father asked me help him fake his death."_

_A beat. _

_"__He should have told me." _

_"__He wanted to. But he knew that that would only put you in jeopardy as well. His fight would become your fight. So he had to make a choice. Tell you the truth, risk your life. Tell you a lie and keep you safe." _

_Without realising it, Joe's words hit right home with Steve. He felt reminded of the day his father had shared his decision to send Steve and Mary back to the mainland. He couldn't place either emotion nor the memory and decided to examine them another time. _

_"__You ask me, he chose wisely." Again, Joe's words resonated with Steve. Or was it Joe trying to say more than just the words he was giving Adam to understand his father's choices? _

_"__No, I need to see him. He wouldn't tell me where he is. But you will."_

_" __No, I can't. I made Hiro a promise. What's important now is that you proceed as if your father is dead. No one can know that he's alive."_

Wo Fat was capable of anything. And Hiro as a former partner would be on the receiving end of his anger should he ever learn the truth.

And before, back in his office in the advancing darkness of the evening, Steve was able to finish the thought, flashes of memories came back to him. Memories of a cellar in a abandoned bunker in North Korea.

Pain.

Anger.

Desperation.

The overwhelming feeling of being powerless.

Robbed of any kind of influence on the circumstances.

Jenna's last cry.

The pounding headache that came from the back of his skull where he had hit the pavement at dangerous speed the day before did nothing to help him calm his mind. Neither did the heavy pressure of two cracked ribs.

If anything, his accelerated breathing made things only worse.

Steve got up from behind his desk and checked his small office fridge for a bottle of water which he half emptied in a matter of seconds. The cool liquid, downed too quickly made his headache even worse. He closed the door of the fridge with a frustrated kick and opened to top drawer of his desk to pull out some aspirin.

The panic attacks, the flashbacks, his missing patience and bad reaction to Danny's baiting… he knew exactly what it meant and what it would mean if he was unable to get it under control.

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers for a moment and then finally picked up the phone while swallowing the much needed aspirin.

* * *

Catherine had been thrilled. Not that there was any intrinsic romantic value to spending 3 weeks on a battleship with about 3000 servicemen and -women and your boyfriend-but-really-not-your-boyfriend.

But the thought counted for a lot. It meant that Steve, despite all his faults and unkempt behaviour appreciated her fully: as a woman and as a professional. A Navy girl.

She had worried about his most apparent injuries when he stood in her hotel door, all dressed up in his Navy camo. He was still wearing the old issue green pattern as if he was clinging to a past that just wouldn't let him go. He had seemed fine. Or rather, he wanted her to believe he was and she played along willingly, feeling that some unvoiced concern or worry was working its way through Steve's mind. She trusted that he would tell her, when he was ready.

He went about his SEAL drill and they had spent what time they had together. He had filled her in on Lori Weston's leave and the rape case involving the Russian diplomat Volokov and of course, Danny's incredible way of dealing with his ex-wife's second birth. They had spent quite some time on the topic wondering really where the Jersey detective, so hell bent on taking anything and everything personal, had taken the personal strength to help his ex-wife - who had put him through hell and back - bring another baby into this world, that wasn't his. It showed so much character and neither Catherine nor Steve were sure they could have done the same.

"You are leaving tomorrow." Catherine said in her best matter-of-fact tone, barely resisting a smile.

"Yep. And you are off to manoeuvre in the Indian ocean where I don't get to talk to you for 2 weeks."

"Yeah… radiosilence. But it'll be a big one. That's why we're waiting on the reserves to finally leave… they refuse to brief us before that." She chuckled lightly.

"So, in other words you are asking me to leave, eh…?" A heartfelt laugh accompanied his words. But it wasn't his laugh.

They were sitting at a table in the officer's room on the mess deck, sharing what would probably be their last moment together around a cup of coffee, various personnel on break buzzing around them.

"Yes, sir. You have been quite enough of a distraction." Her eyes lit up with a smile, that became ever so soft as it accompanied her next words. "I hope the reserve drill was enough of a distraction for you too."

He turned his blue eyes on her, shaking his head as if he hadn't understood her meaning at first, then his projection fell and he sighed. "Not as much as I would have hoped."

Catherine cocked her head slightly in an unvoiced question. This was unsteady ground. Steve didn't like to talk about his feelings at the best of times. Let alone at times where he had been through so much. She knew better than to be too pushy about what he was clearly trying to hide. Him openly acknowledging that his hastily scheduled drill had been his way of 'clearing his head', had already been a lot.

He didn't reply, but left the silence where it was, withstanding her inquisitive look. She took a deep breath and willed down the urge to ask for an explanation for his words. Somewhere in the back of her head, a small voice told her that this needed clearing up, urged her to press on, but she ignored it.

"You mean SEAL Team Six is losing its grip then…?"

Steve groaned theatrically. "Good god, be quiet, woman." And the two lovers-that-wouldn't-be-more shared in a good natured laugh, all eventual tension gone in an instant.

**Tbc ;-)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Note**: Thank you everyone for your encouragements and reviews. You help me move this along. Not all chapters are finalised yet, so your feedback helps a lot!

So, this is where I take this whole story for a spin. Hold on tight and leave me a reaction, review to tell me what you think. Thx!

* * *

Steve had used the better part of the 3 and a half hour flight back to the islands to sort through the mess in his head. The preciseness and the daily organisation of the Navy had helped to ignore the pressing problems, had helped clear his head from too much contemplating and analyse, but it had done nothing for his anxiety.

Yes, anxiety. Well, maybe the reserve drills had helped to face it. He was worried. All the time. About his friends, the people that depended on him. And when he thought about Wo Fat and the inevitable show-down that was preparing itself beyond his control, he was terrified.

He could deal with loss. Or, at least he knew it so closely that he thought he could.

But he couldn't deal with the responsibility attached to being instrumental in said loss. Losing his mother… was painful. But, he got used to it. Got used to the silence in his head where her voice should have moulded his actions. Losing his father's voice at the same time, had been just as painful, but there had been other men to take his place.

In the transport aircraft somewhere above the Pacific, he squared his shoulders that were lightly sore from three weeks of aircraft cramped spaces. He considered the attachments that he had formed. Considered friendship and comradeship. Considered losing Danny. Chin. Catherine. Joe. Kono. And his mind went blank.

_You are a danger magnet._

He knew that it was Danny's way of dealing with stress. The name calling, the ranting, the babbling and the incessant throwing of hands. But he had a point.

Going back after three weeks of a much more simple life, seemed impossible. It was like falling off your bike at 5 years old and breaking your leg. After so long in a cast you can barely remember what it felt like to walk, let alone ride a bike.

The combined engines of the large C17 US Airforce screeched from a change in intensity and direction. Through instinct, training and conditioning, the sound ejected Steve right from his train of thought. It was the first sign of the aircraft approaching Hickam Airfield.

In the noisy and by now stuffy fuselage that was filled with empty supply crates and noise, Steve was starting to feel the oppression of the heavy air around him and sweat trickled down his back. He leant forward as far as the seatbelt and seat on the side of the main carrier space would allow. Resting his arms on his legs, he buried his face in his hands. He felt empty. Hollow. Like his inner self had been left behind somewhere… forgotten.

But where? In North Korea the year before? North Korea a couple of weeks back? On the USS Enterprise? Beside a joint grave somewhere on Honolulu Memorial cemetery?

He'd probably left a piece of himself each time. On each assignment where it had gone wrong, where someone had died, where they had lost whatever objective had been set. Each time someone walked away from him. Each time circumstance forced him to fight.

Pressing his hands into the sockets of his eyes until he saw stars and it actually, physically hurt, Steve tried to avoid the wording of true realisation. But the human mind cannot un-think or un-realise what it has already grasped…

… He couldn't fight anymore. He had fought enough. He had no strength in him anymore.

He wanted it to end.

Ha had to make it end.

This darkness. This horrible empty feeling would consume him and he'd become like so many soldiers he had seen out in the world: lost, confused and just that little bit out of place. Out of sync. With the real world. And eventually, all it would do was put the people at risk he cared for the most.

Danny.

Grace.

Chin Ho.

Kono.

Cath.

"I am not giving up."

He wishpered behind his hands.

"I am giving in."

And slowly, but surely, the C17 troop carrier made his approach to Oa'hu to a home that wasn't a home anymore.

Danny was woken by a small, but very bright ray of sunshine that hit him directly in the face. It was a comfortable feeling, but somewhat persistent and thus lightly annoying. He groaned and started to stretch out from his place on the sofa, in Steve McGarrett's silent house where he had taken up camp until Steve would be back from his drills.

For a fleeting moment, he thought that he could get used to his own house, his own space. Just for him and Grace. With a garden just like this one. Even with some access to the blasted ocean. It would be like a small piece of normality in a sea of confusion for him.

He got up, picked up his phone and went to make some coffee. And as slowly, his mind started its duty, he suddenly realised that Steve hadn't come home. He had announced his return for the day before, but hadn't shown his face. Either at the office or here in the evening. Troop transports were notoriously unreliable when it came to time tables as things could quickly change and flights were bumped around without consideration. Danny knew as much. But it was odd that Steve wouldn't have sent him some kind of message to alert him.

Coffee. He heaved a sigh, drinking his first cup standing at the sink, looking out into the garden.

Steve's last case had taken a toll on him and even if the tall Navy man would never openly agree to it, Danny felt it. Like an unusual cloud lowering itself onto his friend and partner. Come to think of it, really, the cloud had been there for a while before that. It had just become that more prominent during a rape case with an entitled perpetrator. Lori leaving hadn't helped things and quite surprisingly Danny had welcomed the idea for Steve to get back into some Navy routine.

It wasn't something he could understand, but he understood that it would help Steve get some focus back.

And not for the first time, he wondered if there had been too many things left unsaid after North Korea. Things Steve hadn't been forced to work through. Once out of the Navy, nobody had thought to send him to mandatory psych eval as would have been protocol either in active service or as a member of the Honolulu PD. As a state police, they had their own rules and in the frenzy of their first year, nobody had thought about setting up a psychological safety net.

Really, Danny had never much appreciated shrinks or psychologists when it had come to his work, but he knew about their importance when it came to ridding your action and your reactions of any lingering anger or unresolved issues. And well, Steve had had enough of those already before he was betrayed by a friend and led to what must have looked like his death at the hand of his worst enemy.

Put all out in the open like that, Danny berated himself for not insisting on some kind of explanation. He would ask Steve to talk about what he had gone through in these hours spent alone with Wo Fat in that god forsaken bunker. He had to. As a friend. As a partner.

It was past 8 already and his phone remained silent. There was still no message from Steve.

—

Noon came and went and having finally finished all but one form that would conclude two of their intermediate cases, Danny allowed himself to actually start feeling nervous about Steve's silence.

He picked up his phone searching a contact he had reservations calling. Joe White. If anything his implication in the whole Shelbourne mystery and Hiro's feigned death, made Danny extremely wary of the former Navy Seal Senior commander.

The dial tone rang a total of two times. Soldiers. Could never just not answer a call.

"Joe. It's Danny." Danny hesitated for a beat. "Listen. Have you heard anything from Steve or his transport?" Why lose time with niceties that he had no mind for anyway. "No. He was supposed to come in yesterday morning. I haven't heard from him in days. Can you check that when his transport's been moved to?"

Joe could. And he would.

After a very court goodbye, Danny put his mobile phone down, somewhat reassured. But there was a small doubt somewhere at the back of his mind that refused to go away. But then again, Danny Williams had a reputation of being a worrywart. An emphatic worrywart. Overbearing, maybe. But still, he worried. It was in his nature. And he'd be the first glad to see walk through that door and offer him a beer after three weeks of absence.

—

Except… Steve McGarrett never walked through that entry door that lead into the offices and squad room of the Five-0 taskforce.

Not on that day. Not on the next. Or any of the other days that followed.

Joe had found out that he had landed, just as had been announced on Hickam airfield without delay. And for some reason he had picked the next transport to Los Angeles Airforce base.

This had been two weeks ago. Danny had been frantic. Expected the worst. Abduction, blackmail, Wo Fat. Anything. Everything.

But US Air Force flight personnel hadn't noticed anything strange in the Lt. Commander's behaviour. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except Steve was gone. Danny had put all their time to find him. And after 10 days, they had found his name on a flight from Albuquerque, New Mexiko to New York city and from there to London, United Kingdom, where airport security had sent pictures of him clearing customs. Somewhere in between he had changed into civilian clothes. Jeans and a t-shirt.

Danny was holding the picture in his hands now. Jeans. Never since he had known Steve McGarrett had Danny seen the man wear jeans. Ever. They had kept international search alerts and info open. Until now. Today.

Today, the Governor had called Detective Danny Williams to his office.

Today, the Governor of Hawai'i had made Danny Williams task force leader and offered him a Lieutenant's commission with the HPD. He was commander now. Leader. For the first time in his life.

He had refused. Categorically. With as much clear words as he could afford without being thrown out. But Governor Denning wouldn't have any of it. To him McGarrett was gone. And Five-0 too much of an asset to be let go. So, he adapted and named to most 'adequate' - as he had put it - replacement for command.

Except he wasn't adequate. Whatever gave anybody that idea, it was wrong. Danny felt anything but. He wasn't fit for a job like this. Not fit to change offices, and be responsible for the lives of his officers. They were one man down… he was accountable now…. Steve? Gone…?

He drew a hard and painful breath, against all odds, tears welling up in his eyes as his ever so busy mind spun out of control for a moment with all the implications.

"Where the hell are you, partner?"

He whispered the words out loud, to himself. He had asked them so many times in his mind before. He was convinced that something bad had happened. Something bad enough to send Steve on a chase. And in the beginning he had been convinced that it had to do with Shelbourne. Joe refused to answer any of his questions and denied knowing anything. And after seeing the man's own confusion, Danny had started to believe him.

He slowly closed the yellow binder on his desk.

It held all the info they had gathered on Steve's travels. It wasn't much. The top flap faltered in the air, held by Danny's hand. Suspended. Until he finally let go and it dropped down airily, closing Steve's file.

The Governor, before dismissing him to his new duties, had ordered him to pull all resources on finding Steve McGarrett and return to normal business.


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I was away quite a lot this week, so I am not sure that I replied to each and every one, but thanks for taking the time to read. Please leave me some feedback if you can find a moment. I'd appreciate it and while I have a precise idea where this is going, I'm struggling to find a good writing/rewriting vibe.  
**

* * *

It had been 3 months now. 3 months of off the record checking of flight manifests, customs, international lists of departure and arrival. Ever since the Governor had pulled their resources and since there was no official warrant or other international court ordered surveillance, Danny and the Five-0 (plus Catherine through Navy Intelligence) had no way of actually doing a proper search to find any indication of Steve's whereabouts.

There had been bits and pieces, and after the third time Steve had crossed a border with his proper name and passport, Kono had been the first to point out that… "He's gone, Danny. I think…"

"Stop! Don't you dare say it." Danny still hated himself for the harsh tone in which this warning had been said. Even now, weeks later.

"He's gone. Danny… I think Steve left." Brave Kono, ever smiling and ever so diligent in her job… she knew that some things needed to be said out loud in order to be overcome.

Danny had left without a word that day and hadn't talked about their former commander for a very long time after that day. Whether it was to spare any of team or if he simply couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the heartache, had been anybody's guess.

Things had changed a lot in the task-force in 3 months. Not only had Danny become new leader and decision maker, he had - after refusing the obvious - decided to offer Joe a job with Five-0. Since North Korea and his subsequent forced retirement from active service, it seemed natural. A good fit. Accentuated by the fact that they needed reinforcements.

Steve McGarrett had been an extraordinary asset and in that respect, no matter how corrupt, the late Governor Jameson had done well in her choice. But it also meant that his departure had left a big hole to fill. In terms of manpower, but also through connections, intel and tactical knowledge.

Cath had remained a valuable source of help for them and Danny had be very grateful to her. But with time her visits had become sparse and eventually, they only communicated through email and phone. Everyone seemed to be moving on.  
Danny had refused to occupy Steve's old office or desk. And so they had left it untouched. Nobody daring to remove any of its former occupants belongings, medals, remembrance flags or paddles that seemed so out of place now.

Out of place.

It was a good description for the newly minted Detective Lt. Danny not only felt out of place, but out of balance.

After the initial shock, then denial he had moved on to rampant rage, then to silent anger and had now settled somewhere between tense silence and a foot deep sadness.

To the outside, he seemed a bit more tense and that small bit more unrelenting. To the ones that knew him, his emotions were seeping through every fibre of his being. They kept the pretence of ignoring it. After all, there wasn't much they could do. And only in the early morning, when he was alone in his car driving to work, did Danny Williams allow himself to actually feel the depth and length and weight of the personal loss of a friend, a partner, a brother.

He was angry.

At Steve.

And disppointed at himself. And the rest of the gang. At each and every one of them.

They had let their best friend… slip away.

Hadn't seen any signs of progressing emotional isolation.

Hadn't seen the warning signs of looming PTSD.

Steve had had them all fooled.

But somewhere deep down Danny was convinced that his friends had let him down. So so completely.

And in these early mornings, he allowed himself to feel guilty about it all.

Only for that small moment that he now spent alone and in silence with his own thoughts instead of his partner beside him locked in some meaningless banter and hip shots about his driving or his recklessness.

* * *

For Kono it had been different. She had only ever had the one commanding officer. Right out of the Academy, Steve McGarrett had been an incredible whirlwind of experience, tense and muscular police work like she had never imagined it. This was Hawai'i after all. High speed chases, and big crime was something she had known from TV shows and crime novels. And even from a family of police officers, she somehow had never seen Police work that way.  
Until her first assignment was an undercover act. Until Steve and Chin trusted her, completely blue as she had been, to pull off such a dangerous task. And from there on it had been a whirlwind of ups and downs, but full of confidence and bold daring, just like Steve had been to her.

What she felt was confusion, above all things. Confused by the 'why' that she couldn't possibly grasp emotionally. She felt abandoned. Her big brother had walked out on them. On her. And the group felt unstable because of it.

The went about work, and she and Chin had begun to gather everyone for a weekly barbecue on the beach at Steve's house which Danny was now occupying as if he was still holding out on his owner just walking back in, opening a cool bottle of beer and discussing the latest NLF transfers. It helped. It bonded them together. But even without anybody ever acknowledging it, there was a gap. And it had the precise measurements of Steve McGarrett. Larger than life and gone.

Their unvoiced vow of not talking about him… she had broken it only once. When she simply couldn't ignore it anymore. When ignoring it would have just broken her heart that little bit more. Steve hadn't been abducted by Wo Fat or anybody else. He had left. He taken his army bag and a flight and went. He masked his movements. She had found him crossing into Switzerland through Basel on a small charter flight from the United Kingdom and then nothing… until his name suddenly popped up again some four weeks later on a border manifest from Zeebrugge harbour, Belgium and then again on a ferry that left from Tunis to Greece. Europe with open and green borders was a nightmare to track if you had no support from local authorities. And Steve used that advantage against them and no amount of modern surveillance would find him.

* * *

Chin drew a breath before entering Danny's office. He felt apprehensive. It was a general state lately.

"Danny."

Without acknowledging Chin's entering, Danny had his eyes peeled on his computer screen, his mail app clearly using up all his attention.

"Danny."

Chin's voice altered just that little bit. It was enough for Danny to raise an eyebrow, but he still wouldn't look up.

"We need to talk."

Danny's blue eyes snapped upwards, a piercing cold streak in them.

"No. We don't."

Stoic Chin squared his shoulders.

"Oh, but we do. We can't go on like this."

Danny snapped his laptop closed. It was the only thing betraying his frustration flaring up dangerously.

"And what would you suggest we do, Chin Ho? Please do tell me, enlighten me."

Chin exhaled loudly.

"Well, don't you think we should stop acting like Steve is going to walk through that door any minute…?" A frustrated breath later.  
"Sorry, that didn't come out right…"

"Oh, by all means. It did come out just right.", came the court and bitter reply.

"No. I can't. Because if I accept that, then what do we do about it? Because, we did this, Chin. You and me and Kono and Joe and Cath… we all did this. We let him walk away from us. Don't you get it? We let him go through whatever it was and is that he is going through alone. We were supposed to have is back. Not just here, or out there, but truly his back! All this talk of … family… ohana and what a bunch of misfits we are… it wasn't worth much, was it? Not, when it came to supporting Steve? Yeah, sure…! We went to North Korea and back for him. Sure, the big gestures, we got them right. But after… what the hell did we do after?! … Nothing, Chin. We didn't do anything for him. We didn't push him for treatment. We didn't push him to work through whatever it was that Wo Fat did to him in that bunker and we both know that despite being trained for it with the best US training that he could get, he wasn't well … ever since he got back."

Danny stopped as suddenly as he had begun his outburst, running his hand through his hair, before stating: "Jeez, Chin, we can't just talk about it, because we did this. And talking isn't going to change that. So, no, as delusional as it may seem to you or anybody else here, I will keep on thinking and acting as if Steve McGarrett, leader of this team, is going to walk through that door right there any day now. Because if I don't… if I accept that he is truly gone for good, I might as well have just left him back in North Korea."

**tbc**


	7. Chapter 7

**Note:** Thank you everyone for your lovely reviews and your time. I am sorry for the lack in updates, but well, sometimes a plot needs to rest. On with the show it goes. leave me a comment/review if you can, it will certainly help me find the vibe to finish what's laid out already. Thanks!

* * *

Joe White. Former Navy man. Senior commander of elite soldiers. Trainer and shaper of careers. Maker of Navy SEALS.

Solitary man. Barren man. Unattached.

Yet, under that surface was the real Joe White. The one best friend to John McGarrett. And emotional father figure to his son.

Joe hadn't just lost a friend, or a soldier under his command. He had lost one of the only people he had ever cared about. He had lost family. Steve had walked out on him as on anybody that had been left on Oa'hu to deal with his absence. But if Danny felt as if they had failed their brother, then Joe felt as he had practically closed the door on Steve to make him leave.

Not only had he completely misjudged his friend's mental state, he had also completely disregarded the danger in the rift that had opened between them when he refused to disclose any information about Shelbourne.

"I have been tortured over Shelbourne, Joe. Tortured…!"

The words kept echoing in his mind, for what seemed every other hour of every waking day.

This had been the moment. The moment he had lost Steve. The moment he himself had walked away. It had been Steve's only admission of hurt and unresolved pain. It had been a small glimpse under that armour and he had simply missed it, opened the door and walked out. On the only person that he never ever had wanted to walk out on.

Joe White. Leader of men. He was used to loss. He was used to losing people that depended on him. It was something that any commander had to become accustomed to, was he to remain sane in an ever changing line of work.

But this was a loss that he just couldn't get over.

Steve leaving… it felt like a case of MIA rather than a true and decisive KIA. Steve was missing in action and there really was nothing that could be done about it. He didn't want to be found for whatever reason. No matter how many contacts, no matter how many possibilites… Joe White, leader of men, was completely powerless to accept or change what pained him.

And so he walked into the Palace every morning, accepting a job that reminded him every single moment that he had failed at keeping a promise given so long ago.

It was his penance for failure.

* * *

Catherine Rollins drew a deep breath before she stepped into the sun at the Hilton village and walked on the path that meandered through the green, lush garden. She hadn't set foot her in so many months, it almost felt odd doing it now. But she had been invited for drinks by a very old friend and avoiding the Hilton where she had spent so many happy evenings with her friends seemed pointless. She would have to go back eventually. And think of him. Back to a time where anything seemed possible.

She could Jake see waving excitedly over to his table under the trees. Catherine smiled and for a very long time it felt genuine. She hadn't seen Jake in almost 6 years. At least not face to face. They had spent their basic Navy training together, had chosen different specialisations and eventually ended up on opposite sides of the States: she on Hawai'i working for Naval Intelligence and him for NCIS in Newport.

They embraced as soon as she had reached the table and the smiles and emotions were genuine. She had learnt to act her way through everyday situations, it was the only way she knew to stand a chance to actually move on. One day what was an act would just become true and one day she'd wake up and not miss a future she never really had, miss a past that was already gone or the man that had not been hers, but that she had loved. More than she had cared to acknowledge, and more than she had consciously been ready to accept. Until he was gone.

"Catherine Rollins, you look amazing!" Jake Harper was ecstatic, a common reaction by anybody who visited Hawaiî for the first time and was receptive to its charm and wonders.

"Why, thank you. You sound happy, Jake." - "I am. Look at this paradise! I am floored. The light, the air… it's amazing. How come you never told me before…? I mean. Wow. I'm babbling…" He stopped in the middle of his own assertion with a big smile. An average guy somewhere in his mid-thirties with a big smile and enough muscle and posture to quickly give away his status as a federal agent.  
"Why are you alone? Weren't you with some Navy guy? Wait… oh, I remember. Steve… something. A SEAL." Cath froze for a second, not expecting the question right there and then. For some reason she had never told Jake that she'd come alone.

"Yeah. Steve. Steve McGarrett. Former SEAL." The words came out mechanically, almost rehearsed. "He… left. The island."

Jake had shared weeks and months of training with Catherine and he knew all her tells. Her laugh when things were good and her tells when she was close to the things she didn't wish to share. Basic training, and later things you share in the service had a way of bonding people together, and some could act their way into a completely different personality… but most, just showed themselves truer than in any heart-to-heart.  
And so, he could tell that in those few words lay hurt, betrayal and guilt. And he could also tell that she was nowhere ready to tell him anything more about it.

"I'm sorry."

She swatted away his reply with a forced smile. "Yeah. Me too." And then gesturing to the sea: "Now, tell me that you've already taken out a surfboard. The sea is so so different here. It has a soul of its own."

Jake took her diversion and they started off into what would soon become a full afternoon and evening of sharing of impressions of the islands, the past few years where only virtual meetings had kept their friendship alive.

* * *

The end of yet another month was approaching, the sixth now, and as Danny finished the last of his bi-monthly assessments and reports, he counted back once more.  
He was shocked at the count himself. At the easy with which they had all stretched so far and long. Getting used to the absence of someone so dear to them, so close. Moving on.

Not him. He grabbed the last file on his desk. It was a running report on Wo Fat's known financials and assets. And again, he opened the file, like every month, only to find a single sheet in it that showed barely any movement at all. Apparently Steve's biggest enemy wasn't moving any money or resources at all… Wo Fat seemed to be waiting. Or so told him his gut. Reason told him that he was simply using back channels that Five-0 and any federal outlet simply hadn't found yet.

With a frustrated sigh, Danny Williams closed the file again, flicking on the light on his disk as he waited for his laptop to come online.


	8. Chapter 8

**Note**: Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews and subscriptions. You made my day. So much.

Now: enter our favourite hero.

Drop me a line and tell me what you think. Things are starting to get interesting now.

* * *

Ice cold rain, driven by an unforgiving sharp wind, ran almost horizontally across a slightly agitated sea. Far from being a storm, rather a small gale so common during winter and darker seasons, the cold and humid air swirled and pushed forward, tearing and pushing a small fisher boat from one side to the other.  
The boat's belly was full with trawled bounty and its movements were sluggish, slow and heavy.  
A single man was reeling in the last of a heavy rope back in before tying it back on itself. His hands were bare, cold and wet. As was he. But the small task was executed with precision and with intent in the middle of adverse conditions that any man would deem uncomfortable at best, impossible for work for most.

Once his most immediate task done, he pulled his heavy jacket closer around himself before setting off across the boat towards the small main cabin where a small light illuminated a steering wheel that wasn't moving. He finally managed to close the door against the wind, pulled the hood of a waterproof underjacket down from his wet face and plotting his path unlocked the main wheel clearly in tune with the boat, the sea below it and the wind around him.

The cabin offered relative shelter, but it didn't help him to get any warmer than he had been outside. Warmth was something he had been looking for without success. Never. Not up here. He was always cold. Like something within himself just couldn't quite get in tune with his environment and the climate that ruled his new home. Like somewhere deep, much deeper than any reflected emotion, deeper than any conscious wish, his body knew he was out of place.

In the dim light of the grey and humid day, he corrected an unseen course somewhere into mist and deep clouds, heaving a single sigh.  
He had never been one for brooding, no matter how heavy some thoughts and realisations had weighed on him, but here… in this completely changed sea, this other part of a huge ocean of water, here, in these layers of mist that mingled with humid air into a wall of forgiving and forgetting, here… here he'd allowed himself to be lost in thought, lost in himself, just with the company of past transgressions and regrets from another life.

Here he was someone else. Another. With different actions, no ties, no responsibility other than doing what he promised to do, and no danger other than the elements. Here he could just be. He didn't lead anybody, didn't lead nowhere in particular, and he was just the next guy.  
There was no pressure to perform to some standard of duty anymore, no excellence expected, no unspeakable surgical acts to perform on order of others, no destroyed existence to mend or avenge… here the world was just round, and his life was small and controllable. At last.

There was nobody to protect. No hard choices to make, no thin red line, no life or death. Just him.

The side door of the cabin opening with a quick rush of fresh air and rain snapped him out of his silent musings as the boat's captain emerged into the small space. Weather worn features, now just as wet, revealed a bright smile, a beard that could rival any of the latest fashion appearances in that department, and blue eyes that mirrored the ocean.

"All sheaves are blocked. Just in case. We should make it back in time."

In time meant before either the light dropped out too much or the wind picked up too much for their small boat to stand any chance at making it safely back to harbour.

Steve McGarrett only nodded, keeping his eyes on the chart plotter and the wind gauge.

"Cheer up, you sour dough! Don't tell me you are afraid of a little wind and rain…!"

Alex MacNamara, captain of the "Orca", laughed at the idea for a moment before taking back control of the boat's controls again.

* * *

Danny Williams, several thousand miles across the country, heaved an uncomfortable sigh as none other than Catherine Rollins knocked at his office door.

After months of distance, her visits made him uncomfortable now. Not because he didn't appreciate her any less, but because of the impossible things they had shared and because ultimately he wanted to shoulder the burden of fault and wrong for her, for his team, for all of them.

He got up, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling through motion and - so against his own comfortable level - buried Cath in a sincere and welcome hug.

"Cath. You look good."

She extracted herself from Danny's arms and the unfamiliar hug that made her smile in a manner he hadn't seen in a while.

"Yes. Yes. … Danny… I think I have news."

Her eyes had a distinct spark now. She was excited.

Danny's reaction was underwhelming to her. He drew a breath and shrugged his shoulders in a manner that was to particular to him.

"Really…? Are you… sure…?"

Cath huffed at Danny, forcefully stating. "Yes…! Danny. I am. Do you think I'd come here if I wasn't…? After nine months…? Really…? Drag all that up again… ?!"

The words had come out much harder than she had intended and the tense frown that had appeared on Danny's forehead made her regret them almost immediately. No matter how much time would pass, they would all, always keep feeling like this. Like they all had unfinished business.  
No matter how many months passed, it would just… always feel exactly as raw as this.

"No. Of course not." Danny leant backwards on his table, crossing his arms in front of himself, motioning her to sit down.

"Danny. I have a friend at NCIS Newport. A very old friend. One that I trust with my life. And he thinks he found Steve."

There. The words were out. No way to take them back now. She searched Danny's face for a moment before continuing:

"It's a complete fluke. And that's why I believe it to be true. We would never have known. Ever. I'm rambling. Can you give me access to the table for a moment?"

The frown had stayed where it had appeared before, it had only deepened. The only outward sign for a storm that was raging somewhere deep within Lt. Detective Danny Williams.

He nodded silently, got up, opened the door… stepped out of his office, knocking on Chin's, Kono's and Joe's glass walls motioning them towards the central computer table where he took an uneasy upright position, arms crossed again…

He wasn't trying to make Cath uncomfortable on purpose, or be unhospitable and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it. Danny just couldn't help himself, he couldn't allow himself to actually believe until he just had no other choice.


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: Thank you very much for your messages and reviews. They are all so very much appreciated. Are we almost ready for the last act? Yes? Well, then let's get on with the show, because this story isn't over yet. :-)**

**Your feedback as always helps work that much harder.**

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"He is where….?!" - "Canada…?!" - "What is he doing up there…?!"

Jake Harper's revelations over a direct video link right into the heart of the Five-0 taskforce had sparked an outburst that even Cath hadn't been able to anticipate and he calmly and silently let play out what seemed like a relieving of pressure.

"Let me get this into my head. I think you just said that you found Steve McGarrett's name on a client list from a Canadian gun shop owner. See… this is where I am certain that you, dear Special Agent Harper is it?… yes, … see this is where you have completely lost the plot." Danny accentuated the last words in his usual manner with a few pointed gestures.  
"See… the Steve McGarrett that we know wouldn't just hole up somewhere sensible like Chicago, New York or Canada to avoid being found and then simply sign his name on a piece of paper to get a gun. Where… in any possible worlds… would this make any kind of sense…?!" He turned to Chin for support, but the older detective only shrugged a shoulder at him as if to indicate that maybe there was some credence to this news.

"Danny…. Listen… I know that this is a stretch. It seems odd. Weird even. But it makes sense. Steve would never do something illegal. And officially there is no mark on his US citizen record that would prohibit him from getting a gun in Canada. It makes sense that he wouldn't take one with him and as for leaving his signature on a piece of paper, who'd knew that NCIS would check this specific gun shops client list only a few weeks after him getting a gun?." Cath tried to reason with Danny, full well knowing that reasoning was out of the question now.

"It makes sense, man." Chin chimed in. "It is pretty ingenious. Steve hasn't tried to avoid us through clandestine means and he must have thought that he lost us completely."

But even the measured words of Chin Ho Kelly couldn't really convince Danny Williams. Something within him refused reason. When only a few weeks before it was him refusing to accept that Steve was gone. He seemed trapped in an unsurmountable contradiction that only spelt irrational conflict.

"Agent Harper… Jake? Do you have an address…?" Joe, who hadn't said a single word since Catherine had walked into the office, now asked the first stringent question.

"I do. And it's legit. Guys. There is more. I checked the address, found his landlord which incidentally is also his boss. He's working with McNamara Fishing. A small business owner that has a couple of fishing boats. His son, Alex, is the manager."

Jake didn't know any of these people, but he could tell by the way Cath had talked about them and had spent time with them that they were a closely knit bunch. He had been surprised when the name of one Steve McGarrett had appeared in a clean up action against certain legit local gun store owners after several crates of US military issue rounds had gone missing from their original shipping destination. NCIS had been put on the task to find the rifle rounds before they disappeared into the black market and that involved checking out regular trafficking routes across the border and reselling points in such as Halifax or Saint John, Canada.

"Why are you so against this… Danny!" Uncharacteristically harsh words from none other than Kono. Calm and centered Kono who was now standing arms crossed on opposing sides of the central table a distinct glare gracing her features.

"I am not…!" came the indignant reply. "But, am I the only one that finds this just too good a coincidence? A bit too amazing? Just… think about it. Wo Fat disappears right with Steve from our radars. And now we have suddenly a lead that sounds like it's been picked out from some third grade spook story?"

Danny's words had everyone lost in silence at the sudden realisation that for all intents and purposes they could be walking into a huge trap… not to find Steve, but to draw him out.

"Well… the way I see it, we don't have much of a choice." Joe White. Ever the commander. No matter how long he would be out of the service, still he had that way that had also been so special to Steve. That way to cut through unnecessary and go right for the essence.  
"Least of all you, Danny. You've refused for months to accept that Steve was gone. I doubt you can refuse to check this one out. Us fighting over is won't change the outcome… so let's save us all some breath and time and start to make arrangements to leave for Halifax asap."

* * *

It had taken them all of 2 days to get ready. Inform who needed to be informed, get a flight, rental cars and a hotel and jump on a plane across the country. From the sun and a tropical breeze into a cold spring drizzle.

A pretty miserable drizzle that wasn't losing anything of its miserable-ness through the slowly retreating daylight at the end of a tiring day.

The whole group - Danny, Chin, Kono, Joe and Cath - sitting or standing in various stages of exhaustion in one of their rooms had tried to decide who would seek out Steve first. The flight had been interminable: 14h long hours, 4h of lay over in Newark of all places. And the irony had not been lost on Danny either.

Between the exhaustion, the tension and unresolved conflicts, a consensus had been impossible to find. And so they had decided to all go, but that Danny would be the one to talk to Steve first. And so it came that Danny Williams now stood in the darkness opposite of what looked like an old warehouse in the harbour area of Halifax, Canada. It was a two story building like hundreds of the same structure and architecture across the country that had been converted into modern lofts for living. The lower level was clearly some kind of office space and the name indicated that it was space that belonged to Steve's new bosses.

Danny pulled his old raincoat, a reminder from his days in New Jersey, closer around himself. He was glad that he had thought of taking this old piece of garment with him. It gave him a sense of familiarity in the middle of a situation that held nothing but unknown, terrifying possibilities.  
He was mildly shocked at how much he had already become accustomed to Hawaiian climate as the cold evening air and humidity of the Canadian coast started to seep into his bones.

And not for the first time in these last couple of days did he wonder what had brought Steve here. And what it was that kept him here. It seemed a miserable place for someone like him. A miserable place with miserable tasks. It tasted of self-inflicted punishment and it set Danny even more on edge than he already was.

And while he was locked in his musings, he drew a surprised breath as a tall man, a light, almost invisible tension in his step, stepped out from one of the streetlights into the next shadow before walking up to the side door of McNamara Fishing Inc.

It took Danny three strides to cross the distance. And as he stood at Steve's back, fully aware that the trained Navy SEAL would have heard him approach from long before that.

"Hello, Steve."

His voice was hoarse from emotion and humid evening. At first it seemed that his words had gone unnoticed as Steve continued to open the door to the stairway that led up to his lodgings… but once the key was in the lock and the door open, he stepped aside, his face calm, yet almost ashen in the light from the streetlamp.

"Danny."


	10. Chapter 10

**Note:** Thank you for all your reviews, especially the guest ones that I cannot write back to. Thank you. I am sorry that this took so long, but this chapter has been on my mind and prewritten for a very long time until I decided to change it all up, then rewrite it and rewrite it again. I guess it was my test. I am happy with it now, but somehow the dialogue resisted me for a long time. SO, on with the show. Leave me a word and tell me what you think.

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"Yes, Steve. It's me. Danny. Your partner Danny. Danny Williams? Remember me…?…"

In Danny's head his response rattled away in his very usual rambling and accusatory manner.

In the real world, in that back street entryway, under the harsh light of a streetlamp though, his words were completely failing him.  
He had thought about it, for nine long months, whatever he would say to his best friend that had just up and left… and now, he was just staying silent like someone had soldered his mouth shut.  
His mouth felt completely dry while the rain started to dampen his hair and he could feel the cold humidity draw into the folds of his clothing and his skin below.

Danny could only see Steve's profile under a bowed head, but what he saw comforted him. He looked good. Paler than he'd remebered him, but between the lack of daily tropical sun and the unflattering light from the streetlamp, his friend's complexion wasn't a source of worry for him.  
No. Steve looked like he always had. Muscular, square, former military, impenetrable. What really unsettled him, was his measured reaction at finding Danny on some cold early spring night on his front door.

He drew a slow and steady breath, before he stated: "9 months. It's been 9 months, Steven. Time to come home." The end of his sentence trailed off, and it remained suspended between the two men, somewhere between an assertion and a question.

For a minute it seemed once more that Steve hadn't heard because nothing in his posture or his expression acknowledged the very direct words from his former partner. Then, he shook his head. The former Navy SEAL hadn't moved from his place beside the now open door just as Danny hadn't moved from his post a few feet beside him.

"Tell me something, Danny… have you all been safe?"

His words seemed to hold deeper significance for Steve than they initially did for Danny who at first couldn't see beyond their first meaning, until something at the back of his head finally clicked into place…

"What..?! You mean … safe-_ER_…? Without … _you_…?" Danny let out a simple huffing sound that held all his pent up frustration of the last months, flying hands helping the process along. "You have got to be joking, Steven. Really. No… NO…! No, we haven't been safer, or better or anything!" Another breath, just as frustrated as the first. "Let me spell this out for you and your thick head: we have been worried sick about you, son of a… oh, never mind!" These last words were accompanied by an evasive gesture that was about as forceful as a blow to the head could have been. And while it aimed at levelling some of the hot anger that was now boiling up within the sturdy Jersey native, it did nothing to help him understand what was coming next.

"Danny, stop! Have you been _safe_? Is everyone _OK_?" A tense expression graced Steve's features, before finally for the first time he turned his head to look Danny Williams who couldn't believe his insistence nor the look on Steve's face that he could only qualify as … cross. What on earth was going on?

With a dejected sigh, he eventually replied. "Yes, Steve. They are all well. And they are all here. You didn't doubt one second that we'd all come for you, did you?"

A long moment passed between former collegues and friends. The reply came from somewhere else, however.

"Actually, I was very much counting on it." Came the reply from the shadows at Danny's back.

A very familiar voice with the husky timbre of a killer and the smirk for someone who had just won his most prized trophy.

Both, Steve and Danny, were frozen on the spot, both recognising voice and speaker and both their minds racing for a sound explanation until with a shove none other than Catherine Rollins was shoved into the light towards Steve and Danny, and every single member of their protected little family followed her until last - with a distinct flair for dramatic entrances - none other than Wo Fat, gun in hand stepped into the light.

Danny's first reaction was a sound he'd never even knew he could make. Somewhere between a growl and a pained sigh. Steve's reaction wasn't simply there. His mind was reeling and he barely managed to shoot Cath a quick glance while she brushed herself off before Wo Fat grabbed her once more at the back of her coat. Her eyes were screaming murder, her whole body tense. She was furious about how they had not seen this coming. She the least. How their worst enemy had simply snuck on them, drawn a weapon on Chin sitting in the driver seat as they were waiting in a rental van in the darkness for Danny's sign that Steve was ready to see them.

"This really has been a bit too easy, Detective." He shoot in Danny's direction. "Now I know none of you have a gun, as we're in Canada and nobody would have been allowed their service weapon. But knowing good old Steve here, I will ask him exactly once to hand your gun over slowly. Now."

Still running through options and scenarios in his mind, there was a beat, before - instead of drawing his concealed 9mm - he try to gain some time and footing.

"I don't…"

"Wrong answer."

A single gun shot was lost between the crates and the rain that refused to carry the sound any further.

"Joe…!"

The former Navy SEAL commander sank without a sound, true to his training of so many years to the drenched asphalt of the harbour bay, a single red spot gracing his chest.

Steve's cry didn't carry much further than the gun shot and before he knew it, he had unconsciously and mechanically thrown his weapon on the ground before Wo Fat - still holding Cat - stepped on it.  
He sank down beside his former commander, the wet ground immediately drenching his trousers, and with the look of a military man, he could see that the gun shot had torn through Joe's back and exited through his chest. The amount of blood that was already pooling below Joe White's still form was shocking and a low bubbling sound left little doubt about the gravity of the gun shot wound.

Kono and Chin were standing beside Cath, unable to move or reply.

"It's ok." Joe kept whispering to get Steve's attention who was fixing Wo Fat towering above him, his gun pointing at Cath's throat.

"For all the tactical genius, that you have, you are very predictable, Commander. I didn't have to lift a finger to find you. Not when your team would do the same work. I just had to sit still and follow their movements. Once they all booked their flights out of Oa'hu, it was pretty obvious that they would lead me to you." And with a taunting gesture of his squared chin, he added: "You know where your weakness lies, don't you? Your attachment."

"You bastard." Danny was working up a real fury between his flexing shoulders. "I swear to God…, if he doesn't kill you tonight, I will."

Joe grabbed Steve's collar and when he finally had his attention, a ragged breath accompanied his words. "Steve. Listen to me. It's all good… You are good… You… need to accept this, like all the rest. You don't need a father anymore, Steve… You have… a family now. Go and take care of your family."

"Get up." And as if the words were attached to strings, Steve got to his feet in a smooth motion, stealing a piercing look into Danny's direction.  
Slowly moving towards Wo Fat, he calculated all his possibilities and the danger of every single action… but, without a gun, backup or help, he or Cath didn't stand a chance.  
His look had prompted Danny to take up his place at Joe's side and taking in the damage, Danny softly picked up Joe's hand offering calming words to the dying man.

"Let's go." Wo Fat trailed his gun now directly at Steve's face, before he used his left hand to shove Cath away from him towards Danny and Joe.

With a subtle, but clear move of his head, he motioned Chin and Kono to stand beside the others. Cath was still standing with her back beside Steve and for the smallest moments their hands brushed against one another, just as with a flick of his wrist the former Chinese military man, shifted his target, grabbed Steve at his collar, drew him towards him and locked him in a chock hold and then… pulled the trigger.


End file.
